13 years in the past, Moab is my Washpot, Stephen Fry's autobiography of his early years, used to be released to rave experiences and was once an important bestseller. In these 13 years due to the fact that, Stephen Fry has moved right into a thoroughly new stratosphere, either as a public determine, and a personal guy. Now he's not only a multi-award-winning comic and actor, but in addition an writer, director and presenter.

I, Mary MacLane--the follow-up to I look ahead to the Devil's Coming--available now from Melville residence, with a foreword via Emily Gould

Fifteen years separate I look forward to the Devil's Coming and Mary MacLane's follow-up memoir, I, Mary MacLane (1917). They have been years full of males and affairs, drink and debauchery, conflict, friendship, and independence in long island and Boston. That independence used to be minimize brief by way of an sickness that introduced MacLane domestic to the loathed, provincial Butte, Montana, the place once more she took up her pen.

In I, Mary MacLane, the nationwide sensation instructed all, revealing some of the salacious information of her flavor of freedom. As we now recognize, although, the conflict for freedom had basically simply began: if I wait for the Devil's Coming was once a rallying cry for younger ladies, I, Mary MacLane was once a dispatch from front strains of early feminism. each web page speaks of the bravery of MacLane and her peers.

Just over a decade after I, Mary MacLane used to be released, its writer died less than mysterious situations in Chicago, having sunk from sensation to obscurity. The publication is still one of many final records we've got of her existence.

Profitable Sydney-based sportswriter Jesse Fink used to be on the top of his expert occupation whilst his spouse of 10 years left him and walked into the palms of a brand new guy. in a single fell swoop he misplaced his ally, his soulmate, his kinfolk, his id. His wife's new lover even obtained his puppy. What used to be a trip of emotional salvation, own reinvention and sexual adventuring that took him from considering slicing his wrists to dozing with countless numbers of ladies.

The Tailor of Inverness is a narrative of trips, of ways a boy who grew up on a farm in Galicia (Eastern Poland, now Western Ukraine) got here to be a tailor in Inverness. His lifestyles spanned many of the twentieth century. His tale isn't user-friendly. He used to be taken prisoner by way of the Soviets in 1939 and compelled to paintings east of the Urals, then freed in an amnesty after the German invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941.

Extra info for A Clear Mirror: The Visionary Autobiography of a Tibetan Master

Sample text

When it continued to follow me, I infused many stones with the long mantra of the Unstoppable Fine Vajra, then threw them at the wind. At that moment, someone appeared that I didn’t recognize as either a man or a woman. It sang this song: Yé! Yé! Yé! Listen here, you brainless little boy! I am truly your divine guardian. Don’t go elsewhere — Stay here and lead your uncle’s homestead! You will direct the farmwork And become the chief of many people. Reciting rough, wrathful mantras is wrong — It’s possible they will become your own executioner!

All water flowed as lakes and surging rivers of blood, with bubbles the size of yak-hair tents carrying the corpses of humans, horses, tigers, leopards, bears, brown bears, and other beings. The bubbles were filled with these creatures’ dead bodies. The resonance of the four elements and the clamor of living beings reverberated as “Phat! Pem! Kill! ” making a din like the roar of a thousand dragons. I saw all appearing forms as male and female wrathful deities who hoisted aloft innumerable weapons, and hordes of black men and women launching magical weapon wheels.

She held my fingers and led me away. When we arrived in a city of nonhuman dakinis, I saw absolutely every kind of male and female daka and dakini gathered there like at a marketplace. In their midst loomed a canopy of rainbow light. Within an arc of fine vajras sat the wisdom form of the supreme master Orgyen as if he were a painting, wearing a full set of his customary regalia. He was teaching the definite secret supreme approach to the dakini assembly. I respectfully bowed before him. The moment I touched his feet, he smiled, placed his right hand upon my head and prayed, “My child, at this very moment may nonconceptual wisdom, the enlightened mindstream of the victors and their spiritual heirs of the three times, shift to your mind.